"You ripper"! The clock had finally
dragged it's arse around to read 3 PM and after a boring week, there are few
things I look forward to more than an early knock off on a Friday
afternoon and a night of spotlighting with good mates. The plan was to
head up to our property just on evening, have dinner and enjoy the sunset
and then spend the night filling the Esky with ground mutton. And so it
was that by the time we had unloaded the buggy from the trailer and
stuffed our faces, the last traces of the fire in the sky were fast
disappearing over the Western horizon.

The crew consisted of the usual suspects plus the young bloke of one of
the mates. With four on board, there would be a good rotation of shooters,
lighters and drivers. Rabbits were the primary target, so the standard
armament of a couple of .22's was a given. But this place can throw up a
surprise or two and is known "Panther" territory, so there was a .243 and
.223 to provide backup and a bit of reach.

The buggy, note the "red
mascot" next to the bonnet scoop

We hadn't driven
far at all before I found a couple of customers with the Lightforce and
like a well drilled team, the boys made short work of them with the .22's.
The night was progressing well and the Rabbit tally was racking up at a
good rate. Usual practice is to stop and gut once we have a bunch of them
before moving on, depending on the weather. As we now had a few hanging
off the hooks, I fanned the light around for a level area to park and we
stopped on the saddle of two big hills.

A quick cup of coffee and then it
was all hands on deck to get the Rabbits on ice. While the boys were still
washing their hands, I fired up the light and quickly found a set of
intense eyes 150m out off to the side of the saddle. I quickly whispered
"cat" to my mate and switched the light off. The big fella swung into
action and made his freshly rebarreled .223 ready, and as he gave me the
nod I flicked the light back on.

At the sound of the shot, a healthy "thwack" confirmed a solid hit and the
lights went out in the moggy's head. A few slaps on the back from an
appreciative audience and the mate was sent on his way to retrieve the
prize. I don't know what it is but cats & firearms have alway been such a
happy mix for me. They have always provided some of the fondest moments in
life and a sense of real justice in the world, and this moment was no
different. A few minutes later a beaming and satisfied man was standing
next to the buggy holding a very healthy example of similar cats we have
taken previously from this area. Thick tail and heavy body are typical of
cats on this property and this example was sporting a perfect frontal head
shot too. The rebarrel job on the shot out Mod 70 .222 was money well
spent with the .223 chambering offering a little extra to boot.

I would go as far as to say that
whilst I don't much believe in the fabled Panther stories, there are some
pretty big cats getting around out there and there is one big black
bastard that has given us the slip a number of times. And over a 12 month
period, we have only been quick enough to get two shots at him. Not good
enough though as both occasions were difficult downhill shots at long
range under the light, and this cat knows what's going on. The image of
him flattening his body in an aggressive stance as the light hit him is
burned in my memory permanently. With the mini celebration over, the gear
was stowed back in the buggy, rifles reloaded and the shift was changed.
Shooters now on the the light with me taking a stint behind the wheel.

Always show pride in
your work

A sight to make you want
to start making a peace quilt

As we climbed
higher and higher, we hit a real purple patch as the Rabbits became
thicker and we were moving no more than a 100m at a time before stopping
to pick up customers. This was good as the mate's son needed a bit of
coaching and practice on the finer points of head shooting Rabbits. The
young bloke muffed a few and had us all rolling in laughter at some of the
excuses he came up with. After an obvious and very "kerrthump" gut shot,
he immediately declared an unquestionable head shot. Then a little later,
the same unshaken declaration following one of the best Western movie
style ricochet misses I've heard. Once we got off the young bloke's case
and he settled a little, he did produce some nice shooting and the tally
for the night was around 50 so far. At the next rotation, I loaded my
Remington 700 and parked my arse in the front seat, hoping we would tangle
with something bigger than Rabbits. Unfortunately the purple patch had now
degenerated into a black patch and not much was seen for well over half an
hour.

Then, one lost bunny
propped under the light and I disguised my frustration at the lack
of action by offering the excuse that "I'd better see if she's
shooting straight". She was, and I saved the headless
Rabbit for my dog. Then as we coasted into a big open paddock,
the man on the light cast a quick scan back towards a lonely tree
around 180m out in the open, just in time to see the flash of a
cat's eyes. The driver quickly threw the vehicle around to give me a
good shot over the front rest of the buggy. I fed a 70 Gr Ballistic
Tip from the magazine and closed the bolt.

I steadied my
breathing and was taking up the last few ounces of trigger pressure when
the cat dropped out of sight. Then as I relaxed and raised my head,
he would pop up again. This game of peek a boo is fairly familiar to me
and I have practiced it a few times with Fox's, so I knuckled down and
almost willed the trigger to break at the right moment. The rifle barked,
a healthy spurt of flame was produced and the cat's head
disappeared. There was no sound of the hit, though I called it good at the
time.

During
my long walk out there, I had a giggle and thought "shit the young bloke
is going to love this if I missed". After searching around the base of the
tree for a few minutes, I must admit my spirits were sinking. But then, in
amongst the deadfall was the camouflaged back of a fat tailed moggie! The
bullet had entered centre neck, just under his chin. I believe this is
called the Columbian neck tie shot. Two good moggies in 3 hours, what's
there not to like?